The Stormmaster

by BlndDog

Beautiful

I’ll never be finished with this place, Snowdrop thought.

The third expansion to the weather team warehouse was well underway, though at this point it was really not fair to call it a warehouse anymore. Three storeys high with full-thickness walls, it was a worthy headquarter for the eight hundred weatherkeepers of Cloudsdale.

She called the lunch break early. Some warmth had returned to the sunlight; spring would be upon Equestria in another day or two. The weather team gathered on the roof of the warehouse, as was their tradition on warmer days.

Parhelia opened an oiled-paper package and offered it to Snowdrop. She thought they were figs at first, but it was a lot smaller and stickier. The grainy, slightly sour fruit was sealed with a sugar lacquer, and had seeds exactly like pebbles.

“What is it?” She asked after eating two.

“Candied haws,” Parhelia replied. “It was a good year in my town. In a lot of places, actually. I’m surprised you don’t have much more than fodder grass in Cloudsdale.”

“Price of fodder went down a little,” Snowdrop said. “That’s one of the few downsides of Cloudsdale. The only downside, and it wasn’t always this way. We used to collect tributes from the cities on the ground, until Celestia came along and made Canterlot the centre of everything.”

“Now, you don’t know that,” Parhelia said shyly. “Those days were before even your mother’s time.”

The rest of the weather team was silent. They were embarrassed whenever Snowdrop brought up these things.

“We all know it’s true,” Snowdrop said. “Ask any pure-blooded pegasus born in Cloudsdale. You there, Frost Wing! Tell us about the Stormless Winter!”

The older pegasus choked on her sandwich. She was a senior sergeant, and had only completed her weatherkeeping training last month.

“Go on,” Snowdrop said, standing up and walking across the roof towards her. “It’s not against any law I’ve heard of.”

“No.” She agreed. “But it’s in bad taste, you must admit.”

“Since when was history in bad taste?”

Cumulonimbus landed beside Snowdrop, keeping her wings half-spread.

“You’re telling me that you’re embarrassed by our greatest year?”

“In the context of Equestria, it wasn’t such a great year,” Frost Wing said. “Yes, the earth ponies had a record harvest, but it was mostly offset by the tribute that Cloudsdale took. Ponies still starved come spring, and Cloudsdale didn’t lose nearly as many as, say, Filly Delphia.”

“Well who gives a hoot about Filly Delphia?” Cumulonimbus said. “We did what we could, and we took what they gave us! Better than everything going to Canterlot for doing nothing!”

“Nim, that’s enough,” Snowdrop interrupted. “We don’t need to fight over something this small.”

Cumulonimbus returned to her cloud with stiff wings. Snowdrop went through the motion of glancing around before sitting down. Nopony spoke. Parhelia let her keep the rest of the haws.

#

City Hall had been completely rebuilt, with outer and inner chambers. The latter Snowdrop had never entered except when it was being built. It seated the council comfortably, each Noble Family getting its own desk.

Snowdrop had the floor, which was more than enough for her. Entirely too much, if some ponies were allowed to speak their mind.

“Before you speak on Canterlot’s behalf, let me remind you of who you are; who we are!”

A murmur went around the room; there was even some giggling at the mare who wore a tattered peasant’s cloak over her beautiful flight suit.

“We are the noblest race! Born of the wind! Earth ponies cannot bring rain to their crops, and unicorns cannot tame our fierce storms! All of Equestria depends on the work of pegasi!

“But for as long as I can remember, we have been nothing but a fancy toy for Canterlot. Our best are called away to serve on the border, or to watch over some other city. What help did Canterlot give us while our city crumbled?”

There was a great din of argument. A few councillors got up, but others held them back.

“Ungrateful swine!” Somepony shouted.

“Blind fool!”

Snowdrop scowled.

“I don’t mean to overthrow Canterlot,” she said. “But we must stand up for ourselves! If Cloudsdale prospers, so will Equestria!”

Her most violent opposition was the minority. She could feel some interest in the audience, some curiosity and some fear.

“We were not always this glorified balloon over Canterlot!”

“Shut up, you filthy…”

There was a struggle, and the voice fell silent.

“Cloudsdale was once a mobile fortress! We kept the borders back when Canterlot was nothing but a ring of villages. Our ancestors quelled the worst sea storms! They fought back the diamond dogs until they could not show their faces above ground, and then we flooded their burrows!

“You all know what happened to Cloudsdale’s sails. Even in the time of your grandparents Cloudsdale had sails. After Canterlot became the capital, we were ever burdened with obligations to the Kingdom of Equestria. When we our city began to fall apart, the sails were the first losses.

“Now look at the state of weatherkeeping in Equestria! My team and I have trained over a thousand weatherkeepers to send out in addition to the Cloudsdale Reserve, but what can they do, if they are spread out so thin? There are fifty weather keepers in Filly Delphia, as ordained by Canterlot. What chance do they have even in a medium hurricane season?

“Equestria needs protectors, and we are the best! Imagine Cloudsdale swift and strong, with twenty thousand weatherkeepers responding simultaneously. Imagine moving over fifty thousand troops from Canterlot to the southern border in one day! A strong Equestria doesn’t have to mean the end of Cloudsdale. Don’t be afraid that we might overshadow Canterlot in all our glory; you don’t smash out your teeth so your tongue does not become jealous. Equestria cannot survive without us!”

There was some jeering as Snowdrop went out, but they were overshadowed by other voices. She did not hear Alpine Breeze in either group, and counted it as a victory.

#

“Like this, mommy?”

The trails of vapor swirled around Wintergreen, guided by his tiny wings. He had five streams which never crossed, but he was having trouble with the sixth. It reached out tentatively from the cloud beneath him, but refused to form.

“That’s perfect,” Snowdrop said with a smile.

It was already dark. Sunshower stood in the doorway with a mug of cinnamon tea. Perhaps he could see a little under the moonlight.

“I got it!”

The sixth stream broke away all at once, twirling around the lower two before reaching a stable orbit.

“Mommy, I got it! Look!”

Very rarely did she feel the old yearning. Now she felt it, for she was sure that if she got her sight at that moment, even for a fraction of a second, she would see the most beautiful scene in the world.